“Absolute Rule,” “By Your Side,” “Continuum,” “Treading,” “Dreamtime”
Elisa Monte Dance
Ailey Citigroup Theater
New York, NY
February 25, 2010
By Martha Sherman
Copyright © 2010 by Martha Sherman
Monte’s movement revolves around the ins and outs of relationships, primarily between one man and one woman. Three of the evening’s pieces were duets, including “Treading,” beautifully performed by the central dancers of the evening, Rachel Holmes and Clement Mensah. They inhabit the Monte movement as if their own skin, all deep silent power. The subtlety of the movement started here, like Holmes’s tiny movements in circles of small radius or the evoked earth in Mensah’s amphibious deep squat legs and wide winged-arms. The evening’s other two duets were Monte’s “Absolute Rule” and new Associate Artistic Director Tiffany Rea-Fisher’s “By Your Side,” a duet that added a framing cast. Each dance took full measure of the superb physical capabilities of these dancers, although Rea-Fisher’s work was not well-served by being placed directly after Monte’s more powerful opening. Because both choreographers cast Alicia Pegues in their duets and focused on similar themes, comparison was inevitable. Rea-Fisher has learned from her mentor, but her take on relationships was trite, even in strong lifts and poses. The couplings of the lead and supporting pairs moved between embrace and conflict, as Pegues writhed curling on the floor whenever her partner, Joe Celej, was not around. The title and message were echoed in the bluesy line “I wanna be by your side, even when you’re not around:” Women are needy, they cling and hope and hang on despite their treatment. I didn’t buy it.
“Absolute Rule” took parts of the same message but made both Pegues and her new partner, Clement Mensah, powerful contributors to the relationship. Monte took particular advantage of Mensah’s physical ability, a dancer whose back, shoulders, arms, and thighs come directly from Mount Olympus. In their lifts, Pegues curled her knees up, balancing on Mensah’s muscled thighs, and twined in and around both arms; each of his limbs suspended her weight with breathtaking balance. The sinuous pace of their movements made every line and lift an event. As both curled their heads under the other’s arm, they seemed poised to escape, only to link, finally in the low long parallel of intertwined bodies suspended inches from the floor. This relationship, I did buy.
“Continuum,” Monte’s newest work, had almost no individual relationships. This was a hive of dancers moving diagonally across the stage, shedding then picking up individual dancers as they briefly broke free then were sucked back into the group’s movement and momentum. Rachel Holmes, the first separated from the group, stretched her wide arms as if in search of some individual identity, but the pull of the group was a gravity that was too enticing. Their group kicks, swiveled hips, chopping arms and precise parallels created the momentum of this continuum. Even when the dancers briefly separated into parallel duets, they were still alone in the crowd. They didn’t look at each other, but faced forward, eyes glazed, compelled by motion, not feeling. It was mesmerizing and suited Monte’s movement vocabulary and solemnity.
The final piece, “Dreamtime,” opened on a foggy stage with dappled light that streaked as if through trees. Lighting designer Craig Miller also created a leafy light and dark pattern on the floor: a jungle to dance in. Lines of dancers in fours moved into the space from stage left, posed arms wide then heavenward, then the line slid back into the darkness as the next foursome moved into the fog and took their pose. The mechanical pounding and score by David Van Teighem was the amalgam of an Aboriginal rhythm tradition overlaid with computer generated sound. Holmes was again the powerful central figure, her shoulders and shoulder blades an angular model for the jagged patterns of the legs and arms of the rest of the troupe. The final patterns, danced in a straight deep line, were the least effective. The unique beautiful bodies couldn’t hold a perfect straight and parallel line; the longest arms went a little too far, the longest legs kicked or curled just a bit differently. They pulled it together in the final image – their still bodies in the low light, with just their fluttering hands playing in the dreamscape.
copyright © 2010 by Martha Sherman
Photo: Rachel Holmes by Roy Volkmann